When Eli Comes Home
by unlove
Summary: It's a bit of a relief to have Fitz locked up after Vegas Night, but having Eli in juvie is killing Clare. The worst part: she's the one that put him there. DISCONTINUED  FOR NOW ...
1. Letters in the Mailbox

**I don't own Degrassi, which you probably could've figured out.**

**In any case, I was in the shower the other day and it suddenly (and randomly) occurred to me that Fitz got a crappy deal after Vegas Night. Okay, yeah, he threatened Eli with a knife. But hello, Eli poisoned him first! Why does Fitz have to go to juvie while Eli gets a suspension? Anyway, it bothered me so much that I decided to write what I think should have happened. Hope you enjoy!**

1.

Clare Edwards thought that fate was exceptionally cruel. Why else would the letters both come on the same day? Same return address, same stamp, same envelope. She recognized the spidery handwriting on the front of the thick one, because she had seen it every day for the last three months. The barely legible scrawl on the thin one was unfamiliar, but there was no doubt in her mind as to the identity of the sender.

She opened them at the same time, seated at her kitchen table. It was a little ironic, she thought, that both letters even started the same way. _Dear Clare, I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, but they wouldn't give me a pen._

It had been almost two weeks since that day in the courthouse, when she had last seen both of their faces. Two weeks since she took the stand and betrayed the one person she could always count on. She bit her lip at the thought, silently praying that God would give her the strength to cope.

She decided to start with the thin one. It was only one page, front and back, covered in messy handwriting. Her hands shook as she picked up the page and began to read.

_Dear Clare,_

_I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, but they wouldn't give me a pen. You probably didn't expect to hear from me, did you? You probably even hoped you wouldn't. I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to talk to me either._

_I guess I owe you now. I really fucked up this time. Everything happened so fast. I don't even know why I did what I did. Wait, that's a lie. I know exactly why I did it, I just didn't expect it to go down like that. So I probably need to tell you how sorry I am. I wanted it to be a special night. I wanted you to see me for real, to actually get to decide for yourself if you like me. I know there's no way you could ever like me now, though. But I really am sorry._

_I guess I need to tell you thanks too. I know you weren't involved now. Maybe if I'd realized that sooner, I wouldn't be sitting here in a cell. I'm stupid. But thanks for standing up for me when it came down to it. If it weren't for you, I'd be in even more serious shit than I already am._

_I don't expect you to write back or anything, although it'd be nice if you did. Nobody else will, besides my mom. I'm going to try to change while I'm in here, because it sucks here and I never want to come back. We have church every Sunday. The pastor, Father Greg, he seems pretty cool. When he talks about purity of heart, it makes me think of you._

_Fitz_

Clare laid the letter on the table. She looked at the thicker one for a moment before getting up. She went to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. She took a large gulp, immediately choking on it and spewing water onto the front of her shirt. "Shit," she muttered, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. "You can do this, Clare." She placed her water bottle on the table and picked up the second letter. She stood in the middle of the kitchen and forced herself to read.

_Dear Clare,_

_I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, but they wouldn't give me a pen. I'm really not sure what to say to you. How do I feel? At this exact moment, I am so many things: scared because this place is not exactly a resort lodge, lonely because I am without you, frightened because I have no idea what's going to become of me, betrayed because I never thought you would stand against me._

_I understand why you chose the way you did, truly I do. I'm well aware that you don't condone violence. I knew when I planned this that you would be furious with me. However, I never imagined that it would come to this, the point where my enemy and I share a wretched excuse for a home because you feel so strongly about your beliefs._

_I won't dance around the issue and pretend that I'm not upset, because part of me thinks that I should hate you for testifying against me. The other part of me is just as strong though, the part that says that you were doing what you thought was right. I love you, Clare, but it's not so easy to forgive and forget._

_This place reminds me of a Gothic novel, grim and dark, built completely of stone. Everything and everyone in it is lifeless, until a fight breaks out. Then the whole world comes alive for a few minutes, full of shouting and movement and energy. Fitz has already been in two fights – none with me, if you were wondering. He got his ass beat during the first one. He was actually unconscious when the guards pulled the other guy off. The second fight was with the same guy, but this time Fitz took him down. I would bet my autographed Dead Hand tee shirt that they'll have another round before too long._

_I miss you so much, Clare. I miss getting lost in those gorgeous blue eyes, hearing your bubbly voice on the phone. I miss holding your hand as we walk through the halls and pressing my lips against yours. There's not much to do in here, so I daydream about those moments all day and night. The first thing I'm going to do when I got out of here is put on my own clothes. Then I'm going to kiss you for at least ten minutes. I know that we have to do some talking at some point. I imagine we both have a lot to say about what's going on, but please let me kiss you before we do that._

_Cece and Bullfrog have come twice. They offered to bring you, but I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want them to see me like this either. I wish I had the strength to tell them not to come, but I need that connection with the real world too badly. They've taken it remarkably well, actually. It probably won't surprise you to know that Bullfrog once did some jail time on drug charges, back when I was a baby. I don't remember it at all, but Cece tells me that she would bring me with her on every visit and hold me up to the glass so I could see my father. I find it ironic that I'm now the one behind the glass, with my parents holding up their hands to try and touch me._

_I wrote Adam a letter too. I hope that the two of you are helping each other deal with my absence. Don't worry, Blue Eyes. In about 10 weeks, the Misfits will be reunited. I miss you terribly. I hope you think of me often. I don't know if our relationship will ever be what it once was. I'm not entirely sure I can forgive you for what you did, although I'm not blaming you for the consequences I'm suffering. I'm not sure you can ever forgive me for poisoning Fitz, either. I hope that we are strong enough as a couple that we can work this out._

_I'm allowed a 20 minute phone call every other day. I'm going to call you on Saturday. I usually get to make my call between 6 and 8 in the evening. Please pick up the phone when I call, Clare. I need to hear your voice. I need something to hold on to while I'm here, something to make getting through each minute worth the battle._

_I love and miss you, beautiful blue-eyed Clare. I am eagerly awaiting the day that I can be in your arms again._

_Love,_

_Eli_

Clare was surprised to find that her eyes were dry when she finished reading the letter. She folded it neatly and returned it to the envelope. She stayed standing in the kitchen, lost in her own thoughts, as shadows filled the kitchen and night fell on the world.


	2. Lost Without Each Other

**Nope, don't own Degrassi.**

2.

The next day was a Thursday, which meant that Clare's ability to maintain her cheerful façade was failing. Eli's absence caused a sharp pain in her chest that never quite went away. The whispers surrounding her role in the whole event added a layer of nausea that made eating impossible. Between that and the constant insomnia she'd been experiencing since the night of the dance, Clare felt like a walking zombie. Her life was a blurry dream, with only the letters standing out as sharp and real.

Adam found her in the library during lunch. She had both letters spread out on the table in front of her, along with a pen and a notebook. The notebook was open to a page with two words at the top in Clare's neat cursive: "Dear Eli". Adam thought she was staring down at the page, but as he got closer, he realized that her eyes were glazed over and unfocused.

"I guess you got the letter," he began tentatively. "I got one too. I hope Eli wasn't too harsh to you. You know he says shit that he regrets later."

Clare returned to reality with a start. She shook her head as Adam's words penetrated. "Just typical Eli," she told him quietly. "I love you. I hate you. Let's make out. Let's break up." She flicked the letter with her forefinger. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to him."

An awkward silence fell over them, disrupted only by Adam shifting in his chair. Clare watched him expectantly, waiting for him to respond, but he simply cleared his throat and looked away. His eyes fell on the papers on the table.

"What is this?" Adam's voice broke as he picked up Fitz's letter. "Fitz is writing you too?" He scanned the letter quickly before lifting his head. "You're not going to fall for this bullshit, are you? 'When he talks about purity of heart, I think of you.' Seriously?" Adam guffawed.

Clare reached her hand out for the letter. "People can change."

"People like Fitz don't change, Clare," Adam spat, shoving the letter toward her. "He's a bully and a druggie and the _whole_ reason our best friend is locked up."

She took a deep breath to calm herself before replying. "Eli is a big boy and he's responsible for the actions that landed him in that place. I'm not saying that Fitz was right, but I'm also not going to defend Eli. He could have killed Fitz."

Adam shoved himself out of the chair and grabbed his bag. "That would have been a shame," he sneered as he turned and stomped off.

"Adam!" Clare shouted after him, but the only response she got was a dirty look from the librarian.

She stared at his retreating figure until he was out of sight, willing him to come back. Finally, she gave up and returned her attention the letters. Resolutely, she turned to a fresh page in her notebook and picked up her pen.

_Dear Fitz,_

_I barely know you so I don't know why I'm writing you. How did you get my address anyway? Not that it matters, but I was just curious. Look, I forgive you for pretending you were going to stab Eli and I even sort of understand why you did it. What he did was wrong – that's why I testified against him, not because I wanted you to get a break. All in all, I think that both of you got what you deserved._

_I'm not pure of heart, but I try to be. I hope that you really do change, Fitz. You probably don't even realize how many people have been hurt by your actions, or what kind of damage you've done emotionally. I think it's great that you want to open your heart to God and learn all of the wonderful things that he has waiting for you. Best of luck._

_Sincerely,_

_Clare Edwards_

_Dear Eli,_

_Let me start by saying I miss you more than I ever thought I could. My life feels empty without you here. The days drag on, and they're so monotonous. I miss your spontaneity and the way you can turn every minute of the day into an adventure. I love you with all my heart – that hasn't changed._

_I know you feel betrayed. Believe me when I say that it was never my intention to hurt you that way, but I cannot condone what you did. Even though it was hard for me to essentially break your trust, I had to do what I thought was right. Eli, you endangered Fitz's life, your own, and even mine. He thought I was in on it at first. What would have happened if it was me that Fitz threatened with a knife? Could you live with that? What if he had stabbed me? What would it do to you, knowing that your actions were a direct contributing factor in my death? It probably never occurred to you that the consequences could be so devastating._

_I started this letter feeling sorry for you, and for myself. But the more I write, the angrier I get. Use your head, Eli! I know you have an amazing brain in there somewhere, but it seems like you keep it turned off most of the time. I remember telling you that violence was only going to bring more violence. Do you hear me now?_

_And do you know what the worst part of it is? There are plenty of bad things: you being gone, my mom telling me I need to stay away from you, the people at school who hate me because of the strict new rules. But the absolute worst part of all of this is that you don't seem to have any regret for poisoning Fitz. You only regret that you got caught._

_You're right when you say that we need to talk. I'm not going to try and work things out with you through a letter. We need to have a face-to-face discussion for that. I love you and I want to be with you forever, but I can't be with the kind of person who doesn't consider the effects that his actions will have on other people. I can't be with someone who will intentionally harm another person purely for revenge. Think about that, please. I don't want to lose "us" over this situation, or because one of us is too stubborn to compromise._

_I have to get to class soon. Lunch is almost over. Don't get mad, but Fitz wrote me too. Adam is furious with me, and just stormed out of the library because I said that people can change._

_I love you so much. I think about you all the time. I'll be waiting by the phone for your call. But please do this one thing for me and truly think about what's happened. I want us to work past this mess and be happy again. I love you._

_Love,_

_Clare_


	3. The Space Between

**I don't own Degrassi, but I own **_**most**_** of this plot. Not all of it!**

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. It brightens my day so much to see that somebody added my story to their alerts or left a comment. And I apologize for taking longer than usual to update. Things are pretty crazy in my life right now, but I hope you enjoy the next installment.**

3.

It was 5:30 on Saturday, and Clare still hadn't figured out how to tell her mom that Eli was going to be calling. She was a coward, she knew. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to blurt it out over dinner, eating spaghetti in silence and watching her mom stare at her dad's empty chair.

"Clare, can you clean this up please?" Her mom rose from the table, pressing two fingers against her left temple. "My head is pounding."

Clare decided it was now or never. "Mom, Eli's going to be calling tonight to talk to me. I thought you should know."

Helen let her hand fall from to her side as she stared at Clare with an incredulous look. "Excuse me, young lady?"

Clare straightened up in her chair and looked directly at her mother. "I said that Eli is going to call me tonight and I am going to talk to him. I'm aware of your feelings on the situation and I do understand them, Mom. I really do. But you don't know Eli like I do. He's my boyfriend and I love him."

Helen threw her hands up in the air. "That's great, Clare. Wonderful. Isn't it bad enough that your father never comes home and Darcy has run off to Africa? Now you're going to rebel against me too? Well, I'm thrilled. Have fun talking to your juvenile delinquent boyfriend. Don't expect my help when you're knocked up and drug-addicted at the age of 16, and he's nowhere to be found." She picked her plate up off the table and stormed off toward the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. She turned her head and looked at Clare. "I thought you were better than this, but you disappoint me. I'm going to bed."

Clare remained at the table, listening as her mother slammed dishes down and stomped around. She waited until she heard footsteps on the stairs before taking her own plate into the kitchen. Her stomach churned as she dumped the remains of her spaghetti down the garbage disposal and rinsed her plate. She considered leaving the dinner mess just to piss her mom off further, but eventually decided against it. She had at least twenty minutes before Eli called, so she quickly and efficiently scraped pots, washed dishes and wiped down counters. As she scrubbed dried noodles from the bottom of the saucepan, a little of the tension left her. Before long, the kitchen was sparkling and she felt ten times better. She even had a little smile on her face as she grabbed the cordless phone and stepped out onto the front porch.

The sun was just setting as she took a seat on the top step. It was a little too cold for the thin sweatshirt she was wearing over her polo, but she had no intentions of going back in. She cradled the phone on her lap and pulled her sleeves down over her hands to warm them. It was exactly the kind of night that she and Eli would have loved. They would have been hanging out at the Dot drinking coffee, or lounging in the back of Morty, reading and laughing. She didn't realize she was crying until a cool breeze hit her face.

Clare sat alone on her front porch as night fell and cried as though her heart was breaking.

It was 6:23 when the phone rang. A strange mixture of joy and terror washed over her as she picked it up. She waited until the fourth ring to answer. "Hello?"

"Clare, I was afraid you weren't going to answer," came Eli's voice in her ear. "I'm so happy to hear your voice."

She closed her eyes against another outburst of tears. She couldn't think of anything to say except, "Oh, Eli."

"I know, Blue Eyes. I only have twenty minutes so I have to talk fast, okay? I love you. I miss you so much. Is Fitz threatening you or anything? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Eli. He wrote me an apology. That's all it was. Is it horrible in there?"

She heard a sigh through the phone. "It's not awful. It's tedious. There's no privacy. I miss you. It's not awful, but I'm definitely not going to choose it for my next vacation."

"How can you joke about this?" She couldn't keep the panic out of her voice.

"Clare, it's the only way I can get through it. Look, it's not as if I'm not taking this seriously. Do you think that I'm going to forget this little experience anytime soon? I'm sorry. Can we not argue right now? Tell me what's going on with your life."

"Nothing. Adam's still not talking to me." She paused for a second. "Other than that, it's really been same as usual. The uniforms aren't particularly flattering. I don't know how you're going to cope with being forced to wear colors."

"I'm wearing a beige jumpsuit. Any color, including but not limited to pink, yellow, orange and electric blue, will be a relief. I am completely starved for the tiniest glimpse of color. Everything here is beige or gray."

"I'm so sorry you're there," Clare whimpered. "Please forgive me."

Eli's voice sounded hard when he replied, "I'm sorry too." But it softened when he added, "We're going to work this out, I promise. We can get through anything, Clare. We're always going to be together. Do you trust me?"

"I don't trust you about everything," Clare admitted, "but I trust you on this. I love you, Eli."

"Love you too. I have to go. My time's up. I'll call on Wednesday, same time. I love you."

He got cut off before she said goodbye. "I miss you," she whispered to the dial tone before turning off the phone and going inside.


	4. I Almost Care

**Degrassi isn't mine to play with (but I do it anyway). Apologies for the lack of updates. Things have been pretty crazy around here. We had a tragic suicide, immediately followed by some flooding, and then tomorrow is the start of finals week.**

4.

On Sunday morning, Clare put on a conservative dress and went to church. On Monday morning, Clare put on her uniform and went to school. Other than that, the days were remarkably similar. She sat alone at both places and spoke as little as possible. She didn't even bother to fake a smile. Her body was present, but her heart was 200 kilometers away at Bluewater Youth Centre in Goderich.

Tuesday morning started off a little differently when Adam approached her as she sat on the steps in front of the school. She glanced up as a shadow fell over her and, upon seeing Adam standing there, snapped "What do you want?"

Adam held up his hands as a sign of surrender. "To check on you, mostly. Can I sit?" He gestured to the spot beside her.

"I suppose." She shut her book and put it away in her bag. "I'm fine. Is that all you needed?"

"I could use your forgiveness." Adam gave her a wry smile. "I shouldn't have jumped you like that. I miss you."

Clare shrugged. "It's fine. It's cool. I talked to Eli and we're good for now. He's handling it. That's all that matters."

Adam shook his head. "No, it's not. Our friendship matters, Clare. And Fitz matters too. I didn't mean what I said the other day. I was just pissed off."

"I get it," she replied. "I understand. Look, I need to go. The bell's about to ring. I'll see you later."

Adam glanced at his watch as Clare gathered her things and headed into school. They still had ten minutes before the first bell. He didn't see Clare again that day.

She arrived home to find a letter waiting for her. It was Fitz's handwriting, not Eli's. A worm of disappointment wiggled through her stomach, but she ignored it. She snatched the letter off the table and ran up to her room, ignoring her mother's calls. She shut her bedroom door and turned on some music, cranking The Downtown Fiction up to an almost unbearable level.

When Clare went to open her second letter from Fitz, she cut her finger. She hissed a swear as a single drop of blood splattered onto the envelope she had dropped. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked on it as she used her other hand to wipe the blood off the envelope. It left a faint pink stain across her name. She wondered if that was a sign of some sort. She threw herself onto her bed on her stomach and began to read.

_Dear Clare,_

_I had my mom look up your address in the phone book. I didn't know your parents' names, but I knew what street you were on. Bet you didn't realize how easy you were to find. And don't worry, I knew better than to think you went through all that court stuff because you think I'm cute. You don't seem like a girl who's all hung up on the physical. If you were, you would have begged me to go to the dance with you, haha. I'm pretty sure you didn't laugh at that. Actually, I can almost see you biting your lip with a little crease between your eyebrows while you try to figure out if you're offended or amused._

_You don't know me very well, but I feel like I know you. I started out watching your emo-goth boyfriend for weaknesses – which turned out to be you. But the two of you were always together, so it makes sense that I started watching you too. And then I started watching you more, because I'm honestly not real attracted to Goldsworthy. You're pretty. But you're also nice. I don't know how to be nice. I'm not sure I ever did._

_Hurting people makes me feel strong. It makes me powerful. Nobody likes regular old Mark Fitzgerald, but people are scared of the big bad bully Fitz. The choice was fear or invisibility. I chose fear because I know what it's like to be invisible. I'd rather be anything than invisible. You've never been invisible so you wouldn't understand._

_Now I guess I'm going to try being Fitz the saved. I don't know if I can be what God wants me to be, but I'm going to try. Being in here doesn't make it easier. Eli probably told you that I've been in some fights already, even got knocked out once. It's crazy here. One wrong move and somebody's trying to shank you in the lunch line. But I'm doing okay. _

_Thanks for writing. It's nice to get mail in here. Nobody else cares._

_Fitz_

Clare rolled over and stared at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to say to that?" Clare asked aloud. She read the letter twice more before she found the words to express what she wanted to say.

_Dear Fitz,_

_You're wrong. I know all about being invisible. People look through you instead of at you, and all your words fall on deaf ears. You don't think I know about being invisible? You never noticed me until you started fighting with Eli. Right?_

_I showed up for my first day of high school in my uniform from the all-girls Catholic school I went to before Degrassi. You'd think that would draw some attention, but I don't think anyone even noticed. The only reason anyone in the entire school knew me was because of my older sister, Darcy. Try being invisible while living in the shadow of the most perfect being that ever walked God's green Earth – because that's how people treat my sister, like she's this wonderful, amazing person. Not saying that she's not great, because I love my sister, but she's definitely not perfect._

_The only thing about me that makes me special is my IQ, and in my experience, that's not a great thing to be known for. Just like the only thing that makes people think you are special is your scariness, another not-so-great thing to be known for. I understand about wanting to hurt people. It __does__ make you feel powerful and strong and respected. But most of the time it comes back to bite you in the butt. The present scenario is case in point. I've always had God in my life so I can't say for sure, but it's always seemed like a pretty scary thing to turn your life over to Him if you've never done it before. But I think you can do it._

_I'll keep writing to you if you want me to. I told Eli, just so you know. And even though you don't get a ton of letters, I know there are people out there that care about you, Fitz. Everybody has somebody that loves them, even bullies._

_Sincerely,_

_Clare _


	5. Bad Solution

**I don't own Degrassi.**

**Sorry about the lack of updates, I'm usually pretty good about getting a new chapter up at least every other day. However – finals, summer job stuff, etc. Sorry! I'll try to do better.**

5.

_Only 9 weeks to go_, Clare wrote in her letter to Eli two days later. His last letter had been scary, full of lines that said things like _I understand now why people hang themselves in prison_ and _there's no way that I can survive this hell._ With that in mind, Clare resigned herself to carrying her impersonation of happiness over to her letters.

_Dear Eli,_

_Only 9 weeks to go! I'm so excited. I can't wait to see you. Keep your head up! You missed the funniest thing at school today._

Clare chewed on the tip of her pen as she desperately probed her brain for a funny story, real or imaginary. Nothing had really happened today, so she penned a couple of lines about Sav screwing up the video announcements before returning to chewing the pen. What else could she write?

_My mom is still not talking to me after Saturday night. I'm not sure what she thought was going to happen – that we going to break up, I guess. I'm not going to lie and say that it's fun, but it's a bit of a refreshing change after her weeks of moping around about Dad. Instead of being completely silent and lounging around in her pajamas every day, she now slams things around and stomps up the stairs and shouts at my father on the phone. It's really sad to see how immature my mother is; I expect better from the woman who raised me, but there you have it._

_I visited your parents after school today. Well, Bullfrog was already in bed. I guess that a 3 a.m. wakeup call puts a damper on your nightlife. Cece was still up, though, and she stuffed me completely full of white chocolate chip cookies with cranberries. Delicious! I could eat a whole batch of those things alone. Anyway, she seems to be doing well. She told me they're planning to visit on Sunday. I'd like to come with them. Please, Eli, let me come and see you. I miss you!_

_I can't think of anything else to write, but I love and miss you so much! See you soon! Hugs and kisses!_

_Love,_

_Clare_

She read the letter over once, twice, before stepping over to the trash can and systematically tearing it into tiny pieces. She had sounded like a bubbly, ignorant, giddy idiot and she knew that Eli would see right through it. He would take one look at her words and realize that she was attempting to cheer him up in the only way she was able. And it would piss him off. Clare nodded to herself at that thought. Yes, he'd be furious if he thought she was worried that he couldn't handle it. Eli thought of himself as a tough guy – look at the way he'd fought Fitz over and over, even though he got pummeled every time. Fitz! A wave of inspiration struck Clare. Eli would never want Clare to think that Fitz was the tougher of the two, would he? She ran to her desk and excitedly whipped out a fresh sheet of paper, scribbling on the paper as quickly as possible.

_Dear Eli,_

_Hey! I miss you so much. Only 9 weeks to go. It sounds like things are getting pretty tough for you. I'm sorry that you're going through all of this. I worry about you, Eli. You're not the type of guy who should be in a place like that. Those others, they're mean, cruel people. But you, you're only like that when it comes to Fitz._

_Speaking of Fitz, I got another letter from him a couple of days ago. He says it's not too bad in there. I think he's mostly bored. We've been talking (in our letters) about bullying and using fear to gain respect. He seems to regret his behavior toward everyone, although he did mention that all his fighting experience came in handy. He hopes to avoid getting in another fight, but feels that it will be impossible. His sentence has already been extended by a week. Poor Fitz! But I know he'll be fine._

_I went by to see your parents after school. Bullfrog was already asleep, but Cece fed me what seemed like a hundred cranberry white chocolate chip cookies while we talked. She says that they're planning a visit to you on Sunday. I'd like to come. I know that you said you don't want me to see you like you are in there, but I need to know for myself that you're doing okay. Please let me visit. It's important to me._

_I have a new paper to work on for English. Mrs. Dawes assigned each person a photograph and we have to write at least two pages describing what the photograph conveys. I have a ton of ideas about mine so I better get to work on it._

_I'll talk to you Saturday night. Let me know if I can visit with your parents then. I love you and miss you._

_Love,_

_Clare_

As she folded the letter into thirds and slid it into an envelope, it occurred to her that this idea might backfire. She weighed the pros and cons in her mind even as she addressed and stamped it. She was still considering as she walked half a block down to the mailbox, letter in hand. Finally, she shoved the worry out of her mind just as she shoved the letter into the mailbox, where she couldn't change her mind.

Then she turned on her heel and headed home to fix a delicious dinner that would be eaten in complete and total silence as her mother sent her death glares across the table. "All in a day's work, Clare," she told herself with a slight grin. It actually felt pretty good to be the manipulative one for a change.


	6. Make It Out Alive

**I absolutely do not own Degrassi. I absolutely wish I did.**

6.

Friday morning dawned with a brilliant sunrise and a warm breeze. Clare caught herself grinning as she strolled toward school, stack of books in hand. It crossed her mind that she shouldn't be so happy with Eli gone, but she brushed the thought away. Maybe she shouldn't put her whole life on hold for him. It was okay to have a life outside of his. And maybe, just maybe, for the first time since she met him, she actually wanted one.

As she took her seat beside Adam in English, she flashed him a toothy smile which only widened at his surprised expression. She listened carefully as Mrs. Dawes gave the newest assignment before taking out her notebook to begin. As she covered the front of the page in her neat cursive, she was humming quietly under her breath.

"Psst!" Adam tried to get Clare's attention a couple of times, but she was caught up in her happy little world. He repeated her name to no avail. Finally, checking to make sure Dawes wasn't watching, he leaned over and tugged on Clare's sleeve. He waited until she turned to him to whisper, "What are you so happy about? You're humming." She gazed at him with wide, innocent eyes before shrugging and returning to her paper. Unsatisfied, Adam pulled on her clothing again. "Clare, answer me!"

She held up a finger, indicating that he should wait, and flipped to a fresh piece of paper. She scribbled a few lines and tore the paper from her notebook, handing it to Adam. It simply said, _Just in a good mood, I guess. Only 9 more weeks until Eli comes home and I might get to see him this weekend._

Adam picked up his own pen and quickly jotted down a question mark underneath the part about seeing Eli this weekend. He circled the words and drew an arrow to make sure he got his point across. Then he wadded the paper up and tossed it onto her desk.

She smoothed the creases out as she read. _He's allowed visitors and Cece and Bullfrog said they would take me if he said it was okay._

_Why wouldn't he say it was okay?_ was Adam's quick reply.

_Says he doesn't want me to see him like that_ Clare wrote back.

Mrs. Dawes smacked her hand down on the paper. "Mr. Torres and Ms. Edwards, your conversation will have to be put on hold until after class." She skimmed over the words quickly. "Can we get back to work, please?" Her expression softened as she looked at the pair.

As she turned her back, Adam and Clare exchanged a grin that made everything feel like it was _almost_ right again.

Clare's good mood lasted until Saturday night, when she waited by the phone for more than four hours for a call that never came. She gave up shortly after ten and went on to bed. On Sunday morning, she decided that she would go ahead and ride along with Bullfrog and Cece – after all, she could always wait in the car if he didn't want to see her – but there was no answer at their house. Over the course of the day, she called eleven more times, but only got the answering machine. After dinner, she walked over to see if they were home and just avoiding her. She knew from Cece that they had gotten back from visiting by 4 p.m. on previous Sundays, but Eli's hearse was the only vehicle there. Clare stood in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at it, wondering what the hell was going on.

Monday passed with no letter and no answer as to what had happened. Cece and Bullfrog still weren't home. Clare put on her pajamas and cried herself to sleep before the sun set. On Tuesday, she called Eli's parents before school – still no answer.

The answer actually came that afternoon, but not from Eli. The answer came in the form of a letter from Fitz.

_Dear Clare,_

_Wow, you must be really freaking out right now. I admit that I always thought Goldsworthy was a weirdo, but I never thought he was psycho. Maybe trying to poison me was a big clue, huh? Of course, pulling a knife on him probably doesn't make me look any more normal, but still…_

_It was just so random. He's been in a great mood for the last couple of days. Every time I got within earshot, he's bragging to people about his great girlfriend who's going to come visit him and talking about some story he's working on that will make him totally famous and rich. Then he started getting really aggressive with the other guys, getting up in people's faces and shit. Didn't really surprise me much, coz I know that he can be pretty mean when he wants to be. But when he started screaming at the biggest guy on our unit, saying he was trying to sabotage him, it got crazy. I thought the guy was gonna pummel him – he's that big, Clare. I bet the dude is 6'4" and weighs 250 lbs. Compared to Eli, he's a monster. Never saw things ending up like they did. Hope the big dude's okay. He's actually a pretty decent guy. I hope Eli's okay too, for your sake. I haven't seen him since it happened. I don't know what they did with him, but let me know, okay?_

_I hope you're alright. Me, I'm still doing fine in here. Actually, I'm getting a little more respect now that people know how crazy Eli is and that we were fighting. Stupid shit though. God bless you. (Sorry for the cussing. I'm working on it.)_

_Fitz_

It wasn't really an answer at all, Clare decided as she folded the letter neatly and put it back in the envelope. Yes, she knew why Eli hadn't called, but where was he now? And why were Cece and Bullfrog still not home? And what in the world had caused Eli to lose it? She tried calling his house a few more times that day, but still no answer.

When Mr. Simpson opened the door to her homeroom class the next morning and asked to see her, Clare somehow knew that she would finally get the answers she'd been seeking. She also realized, quite abruptly, that she didn't want the answers after all. She took her time packing up her things before following Mr. Simpson down the hall, delaying the inevitable moment when she would hear things she didn't want to hear.

Mr. Simpson ushered her into his office and shut the door. To her surprise, he took a seat next to her in the hard plastic chairs usually reserved for the bad kids and patted her shoulder. "Clare, it's about Eli."

She swallowed hard. She had expected that, but it didn't make the words sound any better.

"His parents wanted to speak to you in person, but they're not sure when they'll be back, so they asked me to explain the situation to you. There was an incident at the facility where he was…"

"I know," she interrupted.

Simpson looked surprised. "You know?"

Clare dragged her hand across her face. "Well, kind of. Mark Fitzgerald's been writing me, and I got a letter last night saying Eli got into some kind of confrontation with a much bigger guy, but I really don't know what happened. And Fitz said that he hoped the big guy was okay. I don't understand what he meant by that. Did Eli hurt him or something?"

Simpson rose from his chair and stepped over to the window. "You know, I have a Master's degree in education, multiple certifications that qualify me to deal with all kinds of awkward situations and ten years of experience dealing with troubled teenagers. And yet each situation is so unique and complicated that all of that is useless." He turned around, clasping his hands in front of him. "Clare, on Thursday evening as the boys were lining up for dinner, Eli began screaming at another resident. He accused the boy of killing his ex-girlfriend, stealing his story ideas and putting him on a list of people to be assassinated. As Fitz told you, the other boy was much larger than Eli and apparently blew him off as being harmless so he ignored him. Eli's anger escalated to the point that he somehow was able to tackle the bigger boy to the ground. He proceeded to slam the boy's head into the floor until he was unconscious, and then he began jumping on the boy's chest. He also managed to fight off three guards and several of the other residents while doing this. We know for a fact that he broke at least three of the young man's ribs and damaged his sternum. It has also been determined that the young man will have some brain damage, although we don't know what degree. He's still in a coma."

Clare didn't say a word.

Mr. Simpson squatted in front of her and took her hand. "Clare, Eli has been moved to an inpatient facility for people with mental illness. He's been diagnosed as bipolar with psychotic episodes."


	7. End of the Line

**I don't own Degrassi.**

7.

When Bullfrog finally called that night, Clare was a mess. "What's going on? Is he okay? Have you seen him?" Clare blurted out as soon as she heard his voice.

"He's alright," Bullfrog reassured her in his slow drawl. "He's at Toronto East General now. Cece and I have been there for most of the week. They have an inpatient psychiatric unit for adolescents so that's where he's staying right now. They said he's bipolar."

"Yes, Principal Simpson told me." Clare fought to keep her voice calm.

"Yeah, sorry about that." She could hear Bullfrog sigh. "We wanted to tell you ourselves, but things have just been so crazy, literally. We got a call Thursday evening and drove straight to Goderich. They kept him locked up all night. We didn't even get to see him. But Friday morning a psychiatrist came in and diagnosed him, then she recommended moving him. He just lost it, Clare. The bipolar thing makes sense if you think about it; he's always ecstatic one minute and then completely depressed the next. But I guess the stress of juvie was just too much for him." He cleared his throat. "Look, he's not allowed to have any visitors besides us for at least a month, and he's not allowed to use the phone either. But you can still write him. He'd like that." He gave Clare the address. "We'll keep you updated on what's going on, but basically they're trying out some different drugs to help him calm down. He's doing some therapy too, alone and with us. The doc says she'll want to get the people closest to him involved at some point, so we told her about you and Adam."

Bullfrog went on for a few more minutes about treatment and how Eli was doing, but Clare was beyond hearing. She murmured a goodbye before he hung up, but her mind was already on the next letter she would write.

_Dear Eli,_

_I hope you're okay. I was really worried for awhile. I still am, actually. I don't understand what's happening. Did you know something was wrong with you, like with the hoarding? Or has this illness overtaken your mind to the point that you never realized that you stepped outside the bounds of reality? I'm sure you're asking yourself these questions now, but I doubt that either of us will have the answers anytime soon._

_Mr. Simpson sat me down to tell me what was going on. Bullfrog said that he and Cece were too caught up in the situation. I know you don't care for Simpson much, but honestly, he was incredibly understanding toward me. I understood the basic concept of bipolar disorder, but he took the time to explain it more in depth. I took the time to do a little research. It's all very complicated, as I'm sure you're finding out. I'm sure the hospital will get you back on track though. Pretty soon, things will be back to normal. I love and miss you, Eli. I wish I could be with you to give you some emotional support, but know that my thoughts and prayers are with you (even if you don't always appreciate my prayers). Write me soon._

_Love always,_

_Clare_

Two days later, a reply came.

_Clare,_

_Screw Simpson, screw this hospital and screw you too if you believe everything they're telling you. It's all bullshit. Yeah, I got in a fight and kicked that guy's ass, but he was asking for it. I didn't mean to hurt him as bad as I did and I'm sorry for that, but I'm __**NOT**__ crazy. I don't belong here. You have no idea what this place is like. It makes juvie look like the playground. There's a guy here who tried to burn down his house with his family in it, and an anorexic girl who cries about being fat even though you can see every one of her ribs. We're not allowed to have forks because everybody is suicidal but me. You think I belong in a place like this? Because I don't._

_They put me here because I beat them at their own game. They try to lock us up and make us into good little sheep, but I decided to play the wolf instead. Now they're feeding me pills and brainwashing me so I'll start following the rules. I'm in therapy for so much of the day that I barely have time to eat and sleep. I have private therapy, group therapy, family therapy, music therapy – the list goes on and on. They read some of my writing and said that it's "deeply disturbing". They're concerned that I might have "suicidal and homicidal ideations", meaning they think I'm going to hurt myself or someone else. I didn't want to hurt anyone until I got here. I wasn't crazy until I got here. This place is __**making**_ _me crazy. If you're really on my side, if you truly love me like you say you do, then you'll help me find a way to get out of here before I lose my fucking mind._

_Eli_

Clare called Adam as soon as she finished the letter. Ten minutes later, they were grabbing a table at the Dot, with Clare ordering drinks as Adam read Eli's words. Clare couldn't bear to watch, so she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the window behind her as she tried to block out everything.

"This is nuts," Adam announced as he finished reading the letter for the second time.

Clare snorted. "Isn't that the whole problem with this situation?" There was a momentary pause as the waitress set their drinks on the table. Clare took a small sip of her soda.

"Well, yeah," Adam finally agreed. "But I had no idea he was that much of a loose cannon. I mean, he's always been really moody…"

"And he gets obsessed with things," Clare pointed out, "like his feud with Fitz."

"And he never really coped with Julia's death," Adam continued.

"But I had no idea that he was so…" Clare trailed off as she searched for the right word.

"Delusional?" Adam supplied.

"Yeah. Delusional," Clare echoed, stuffing the letter back into her purse. "The person who wrote this letter has no ability to differentiate between fantasy and reality."

"So what do we do?" Adam voiced the question that was on both of their minds.

Clare shrugged. "What do you think we should do?"

"I don't have a fucking clue."


End file.
